Naaman:
Thou art too dear to injure with a kiss,—
How should I take a gift may bankrupt thee,
Or drain the fragrant chalice of thy love
With lips that may be fatal? Tempt me not
To sweet dishonour; strengthen me to wait
Until thy prophecy is all fulfilled,
And I can claim thee with a joyful heart.
Ruahmah: [Turning away.]
Thou wilt not need me then,—and I shall be
No more than the faint echo of a song
Heard half asleep. We shall go back to where
We stood before this journey.
Naaman:
Never again!
For thou art changed by some deep miracle.
The flower of womanhood hath bloomed in thee,—
Art thou not changed?
Ruahmah:
Yea, I am changed,—and changed
Again,—bewildered,—till there's nothing clear
To me but this: I am the instrument
In an Almighty hand to rescue thee
From death. This will I do,—and afterward—
[A trumpet is blown without.]
Hearken, the trumpet sounds, the chariot waits.
Away, dear lord, follow the road to light!
Scene II [ * ]
The house of Elisha, upon a terraced hillside. A low stone cottage with vine-trellises and flowers; a flight of steps, at the foot of which is Naaman's chariot. He is standing in it; Saballidin beside it. Two soldiers come down the steps.
First Soldier:
We have delivered my lord's greeting and his message.
Second Soldier:
Yes, and near lost our noses in the doing of it! For the servant slammed the door in our faces. A most unmannerly reception!
First Soldier:
But I take that as a good omen. It is a mark of holy men to keep ill-conditioned servants. Look, the door opens, the prophet is coming.
Second Soldier:
No, by my head, it is that notable mark of his master's holiness, that same lantern-jawed lout of a servant.